


Last Rites

by gettingby



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Book 1: Carry On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25128577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gettingby/pseuds/gettingby
Summary: “Y’know, we don’t have to die virgins. Like, there’s two of us. And you like blokes.”Baz and Simon are trapped in a falling castle. Simon has an idea.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 23
Kudos: 284





	Last Rites

**Author's Note:**

> This is just porn. I’m sorry. I’ve been studying 12 hours a day and my brain can’t handle plot.

“Go off, go off, go  _ off, _ ” Baz screams. I’ve never seen him so scared.

“I can’t,” I say. And it’s true. I can’t feel my magic at  _ all _ , for the first time since I got it, after I pushed it into the Humdrum ten minutes ago.

“Morgana’s cunt.” Baz drops his wand to the ground. It rolls a bit before stopping against a cracked bit of plaster. “We’re going to die.”

It seems silly to think that. We’re just trapped in a collapsed fairy castle that will crush us to death if we don’t suffocate first. It’s the sort of pickle two mages should easily get out of. 

Except we’re in a dead spot. And I just gave away all my magic.

“Well,” I say, “at least you’ll get to say you killed me.”

Baz stares blankly. 

“You know. Because you lured me into this decrepit castle.”

“I didn’t  _ lure you, _ you followed me. And brought the bloody Humdrum along for the ride.” He sits back against a rotten beam and startles when it collapses under him. “If anything, you’re murdering me.”

“We can just say we murdered each other. It’s poetic justice, innit?”

“No, you clearly murdered me. And yourself, with your own stupidity—”

I shrug. “Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? We’re both going to die.” I think. Can vampires  _ really  _ die?

“I will be sure to come through the Veil in twenty years to blame you, nonetheless.”

“Huh? What’s a Veil?”

Baz groans, tugging at his hair. It’s all tangled up. There’s even a twig in it. He flinches as I reach for him, but I keep going until I pull the twig out - it takes a bit of maneuvering. It’s really stuck in there.

“You’re shockingly calm, Snow, considering you give the whole school an asthma attack anytime they run out of roast beef in the dining hall.”

“I’m in denial, I guess.” It just doesn’t seem worth it to panic now. I mean, I defeated the Humdrum. I don’t have magic. Not now...and maybe not ever again. I’ve fulfilled my purpose. What’s there to be upset about?

Baz pulls his knees to his chest and sets his head between them. I take pity and pat him awkwardly. Unlike me, Baz probably has a tonne of plans for after Watford. He’s probably going to go to Oxford like the rest of his family did, I bet. Maybe become one of those bankers that tanks the global economy and makes millions doing it.

“Aren’t you upset at  _ all? _ Like, you defeated a literal supervillain. You got a pretty girl. You were so close to  _ happily ever after _ .”

He makes it sound pathetic and bitter, like a childish daydream. I think it would have stung, before, but I’m feeling really calm now.

“I dunno. I don’t mind it, being here at the end of the world with you.”

“You must not think we’re really going to die.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Nothing we can do now but wait, right? What’s the point of worrying? Just...don’t think about it.”

Baz laughs, a bit hysterically. “Yes. Okay, brilliant advice. Just don’t  _ think _ about it.”

Now I am, though, because of what he said. Thinking about it, I mean. I guess I don’t  _ really _ think we’re going to die. I always worm my way out of tight spaces somehow, even if I have no earthly idea what to do. I tend to assume that everything will work out in the end - I’ve been lucky.

But if I really do die...I feel like I’m leaving something unfinished.

I lay all the way down next to him. “Baz. Tell me something about yourself.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Like. I barely know anything about you, and we’ve been roommates for seven years. We’re like - brothers in arms, bleeding out in the trenches. We should be bonding.”

Baz rolls his eyes. “What do you want to know?”

“Hm. Tell me about your family.”

“That’s hardly fair, Snow. You’d have nothing to share in return.”

I risk the precarious structural integrity of our position to kick him in the shin. He yelps.

“Crowley, okay! I have a father, as you know. And a stepmum. And four half-siblings.”

“Four?” I always imagined Baz as a spoiled only child. “What about pets?”

He grimaces. “We...used to have a dog.” He doesn’t elaborate.

“How many girlfriends have you had?”

Baz turns his head so fast he could’ve gotten whiplash. “What?”

“Oh, come on. Too personal?” Baz hasn’t dated anyone at Watford, as far as I know. I’ve always been curious about it.

“It’s like, you’re so fit. Even my bloody ex-girlfriend wants to be with you. I just imagine you spend your summers with some European heiress, you know. That you’ll marry after you graduate, and have pale, half Transylvanian babies.”

Baz’s lips quirk up, and I grin in return.

“Yeah, I’ve got it, haven’t I? Tell me about her. I bet she’s named Catalina, or something else posh.”

He laughs. “Do you spend a lot of time speculating about my love life?”

“Spend a lot of time thinking about you, period.”

He frowns, and I’m not sure I should have admitted that. It’s kind of obvious, though. Anyway, not much to be embarrassed by when we’re making deathbed confessions.

Baz clears his throat. “Well. No, I’m not dating a mysterious European heiress. Though not for lack of trying, on the part of my father. He’s been hoping that the right woman can make me straight.”

Oh.

I’m too shocked to say anything for a bit. When I do, my voice cracks. “Um. Are you gay, then?”

“Yes,” he huffs. “If you have anything to say about it, spare me in my last moments.”

“No, no, of course not. M’not homophobic.”

“Lovely to know.”

“So d’you have a boyfriend, then?” I try to sound nonchalant. Maybe I am homophobic, a bit, because this question makes my hairs stand on end.

“Nope.” Baz sighs. “Going to die a tragic gay vampire virgin.”

It’s such a Baz thing to say that I start laughing uncontrollably - Baz joins in, too, and it’s nice. I don’t think we’ve ever laughed together, instead of at each other. When I catch my breath, I confess, “Me too. Not the gay part, or the vampire, obviously. But a virgin.”

“Wellbelove was saving herself for marriage, then?”

“Nah - we just. Didn’t really think of it as a priority.” We didn’t spend much time alone, really. Over Christmas we’d spend some nights kissing under a blanket by the fire. It never went on for very long.

Maybe that’s strange.

“Y’know, we don’t  _ have  _ to die virgins. Like, there’s two of us. And you like blokes.”

Baz’s eyes widen as soon as the words leave my mouth.

Fuck, I’m such a tit. I look up at the splintering rafters and think,  _ this would be a grand time to fall on me, thanks. _

I don’t take it back, though. 

“Funny joke, Snow,” he finally says. I don’t reply, but I do turn my head to look at Baz. My eyes follow the undulation of his swallow.

“Sorry. I know that just because you like blokes doesn’t mean you like me.” I laugh. “Got standards, then?”

“Well - no. I mean—”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Baz stutter. He resolutely avoids eye contact with me as he says, “Okay, then.”

I sit up so quickly I get lightheaded. “Really?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

I feel like I’m in some strange dream. Now that I think about it, maybe I _ have  _ dreamt about this…

I cut off that train of thought. It’s the end of the world. (For us, at least.) No time for thoughts, just actions.

“Okay, then. Um. Should I kiss you?”

Baz groans and throws his arm over his face. “Never mind.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I’m being awkward.” It’s a bit weird to transition from talking about murder to snogging, isn’t it? But as I lean over Baz’s prostrate form, it doesn’t feel very weird at all.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” 

Baz moves his arm away from his face.

The eye contact is almost too much. But Baz has lovely eyes - when I look into them, I can forget that he’s Baz. Well, I can’t forget that - but I forget that he’s supposed to be my enemy and that he hates me. I just look at him and see a boy.

I lean forward and press our lips together.

It’s pretty terrible at first. I’m pretty sure Baz hasn’t kissed anyone before - he’s puckered and still and it’s like kissing a fish (he’s really cold, too.) But I don’t give up. I go slow, and pretty soon he gets the idea. Then he’s pressing up harder, kissing me with force. It’s - well. Maybe it’s the situation, or maybe Agatha and I just didn’t have any chemistry, but - fuck.

I’m getting hard. I think I was a bit already - just from the conversation, and anticipation. But this is also just  _ so good _ . It feels - I don’t know - right. Like little sparks are going off in my chest.

Baz is so fucking fit. I knew that - I’ve been so jealous of it sometimes that I couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop looking at him - but it’s different, now. My eyes are closed, but I can  _ feel  _ it. I see him in my mind, all those planes and angles etched into my brain. I know the exact curve of his jaw when I grasp it, and the gentle wave of his hair when I stroke it away from his face.

He’s moaning into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, and I just need to touch more of him. I slip my fingers between his shirt buttons, and get the barest feel of smooth, cool skin. I tug his shirt from his trousers and slip my hand underneath, memorizing the ripple of his stomach, the cleft of his breastbone. I rub my thumb over his nipple, and he groans. His hands come up - one tangles in my hair, while the other clutches my hip.

I relax down further, shifting some of my weight off my knees and onto him, and I feel it. He’s hard, too.

He rocks up against me, and the sensation is electric. I start to thrust against him - he lays still so that we can keep a good rhythm - and it doesn’t make any sense that just rubbing up feels so good. I want to kiss his neck and see the rest of his body, but it’s hard to tear myself away from him even for a moment. Every time I get the resolve to, he moves his jaw a bit differently, or skims his hand along my thigh, or makes a noise I’ve not heard yet, and I think,  _ just a bit longer _ . There’s so much to discover about him - I could kiss him just like this for hours.

He breaks it, in the end. He unbuttons the first few buttons on my uniform shirt. It’s already untucked, so it’s easy for me to take it off. He slides back a bit so he can do the same.

I lean down again to kiss him, and the skin-on-skin contact feels even better. The hard peaks of his nipples skim my body, and I press down harder. Then I shift back against his thighs, just for a moment. It’s enough time for him to sit up all the way. And then he licks my neck.

A long, wet stripe from my ear down to my collarbone. I notice that my cross has swung over the opposite shoulder, and I panic for a moment before yanking it off and throwing it somewhere in the rubble. (I don’t know if the whole thing about vampires and crosses is a myth or not, but I don’t want to risk ruining the mood.)

He nips at my collarbone, swirls his tongue in the cleft below my throat, then licks another, long path up my neck, pressing a bit when he crosses my Adam’s apple. It feels a bit like choking when he does that, but it’s still good.

“What do you want to do?” I ask.

I’m realising that I don’t know much about how two blokes have sex, beyond what I’ve learned from hearing offensive jokes in care homes. He’s bashful for a moment before setting his mouth in a confident line. 

“I want to suck you off.”

I have to brace my hands on the ground. I don’t know what I expected him to say...but it wasn’t that.

He holds my gaze like it’s a challenge. I’m not going to back down, of course. Because now that he’s said it, that the possibility’s in my mind, I’m delirious with it.

“Yeah, um. Okay. That’s - great. Would be great!”

He smirks and I realise I’ve lost my upper hand. We flip places and he settles between my knees. I feel more vulnerable than I thought I would.

He locks eyes with me, then slides his cheek against the tent in my trousers. I gasp.

He keeps rubbing his face on me over my clothes, alternating it with his hand or rubbing my bollocks against his palm. He keeps going for so long that I’m afraid a spot of precum will soak through my trousers.

“Fuck, Baz,” I whine. “Please - please touch me.”

“Aren’t I already?” He purrs. I growl, and he smirks as he unbuckles my belt. I lift my hips so he can tug my trousers down.

He gives my cock the same treatment through my pants, but it feels so much better through the single layer. He can reach the sides of my cock now, too, and roll my bollocks between his fingers. I moan and rock against his hand, and the head of my cock slips up the waistband of my pants.

I freeze. It hits me that Baz is about to see me naked. No one’s ever seen me naked before. It’s...strange. But nice. I think if it were to be anyone, it ought to be Baz…

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking between the exposed head of my cock and my face. I nod vigorously.

I think it feels momentous to him, too. He slides my briefs off - he sets them in a pile with my trousers and nudges them under me so my bare arse doesn’t sit on the dusty floor - and just stares. It would make me a bit self-conscious, if Baz didn’t look like he’d just woken up on Christmas morning.

His eyes wide, he slowly approaches the head of my cock. He licks all the way down like he did on my neck and then puts the head in his mouth.

I can’t stay quiet when I feel the warmth and heat envelop me - I moan, long and loud. He swirls his tongue around the head for a bit, then resumed licking down the shaft, over and over again, until my cock is slick and the head is purple and throbbing and desperate to be touched -

He doesn’t, though. He looks down curiously and takes one of my bollocks in his mouth. It feels good, for a second, and then he squeezes and I yelp.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. I accept his apology by tucking his hair away from his face and holding it there. He leans into my palm.

He starts again, this time from the base of my cock, tongue flat, a little drier this time, so the friction is delicious, and finally sucks the head of my cock.

He starts to bob up and down and my whole body spasms.

Merlin and Morgana and all that’s magic. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life.

My brain is completely overwhelmed and addled - everything we’ve done has been a new level of pleasure, mounting and mounting - and I feel the familiar tightening of my bollocks, though I try to hold it back. “Baz, Baz, I’m gonna—”

He pops off my cock completely before I come, and I groan at the sudden exposure.

“Not yet.”

I want to protest. The pressure low in my belly is begging for release - but he’s right. I don’t want to come yet.

I think I can cool down a bit while I focus on Baz.

As soon as I pull down his pants, I realise that this won’t cool me down at all. His prick is pink and perfect and I’ve never wanted to taste anything more.

I go for that immediately - I’m not as patient as Baz - but he seems to like it. I like it too - the noises he’s making, and the fullness of him against my tongue.

I use my hand to stroke him while I bob my head up and down, and after a short time his thighs are squeezing my torso. He tugs on my hair and says, “Stop, stop.” I pull off reluctantly.

“I - want to do something else.” He cuts his eyes to the side, cheeks pink. “Just because, you know. If it’s the only time I’ll get to have sex.”

My heart sinks as I remember why we’re doing this. It feels cheap when he puts it like that.

My attention shifts completely when the next words come out of his mouth.

“I want you to fuck me.”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to!”

“No, no…” I rub his stomach and he relaxes. “Fuck, I’d love that. But, uh. We don’t exactly have the supplies.”

Baz scrabbles for his wand. “I know a spell…”

In a distant corner of my mind, something occurs to me, but I’m quickly distracted when Baz casts  **Slippery when wet** on his fingers and reaches down.

My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t tear my eyes away as he circles his hole, slipping a finger inside. It slides so smoothly that I know it’s not his first time doing this. 

The thought that he does this on his own - fucks himself on his fingers, probably in  _ our _ shower - makes me burn all over.

He works himself open, slipping in another finger, and I moan. “Fuck, Baz...can - can I?”

He nods and casts the spell on me, too. He slides his fingers slowly out, and his hole is already a bit loose - when the pad of my finger breaches it, he tenses and I briefly lose my ability to breathe.

He exhales and relaxes, and he’s moaning and rocking against my fingers pretty soon. I can’t stop staring at where we’re joined. I wonder if it would be awkward if I had a wank first - I can’t imagine I’ll last any amount of time inside him. I’m almost desperate enough to ask him to cast  **Candle in the wind** .

I keep going, trying to distract myself with unsexy thoughts, until Baz is a whimpering mess below me. He keeps whining, “Please, please, please,” and I think I know what he’s asking for.

I pull my fingers out and stroke his thigh, gently. He grabs his wand and quirks an eyebrow. I nod, and hold my cock up.

He slaps my hand away and pulls it back towards me. “It’s going to be a mess if I try to cast on that, Snow.”

There’s something so comforting about his tone that my heart aches.

He magically lubes up my hand and I spread the slickness liberally over my cock. Then I take a deep breath. Because I’m really going to do this - this is really happening. I’m going to be inside of someone - inside of Baz - for the first and maybe last time in my life. I realise how long I’ve craved this - to feel completely consumed, to be close as humanly possible.

I squeeze my shaft and hold Baz’s thigh with one hand to steady myself as I breach him.

I go slow and watch him carefully. He trusts me, and I’d rather die than hurt him. It’s impossibly tight at first, but he pulls his knees to his chest and breathes slowly, and once the head of my cock works its way inside him, the rest of the slide is smooth.

“Fuck,” I say, once my balls are flush against him.

“Fuck,” he agrees.

“Are you okay?”

He nods. “It’s - full. But it’s so good.” His voice is earnest, not a hint of sarcasm. It’s thrilling. We’re in this together, experiencing something wholly new.

I don’t move until he rocks against me, both for his benefit and to avoid coming early, and then I start fucking him. If it can even be called that - I start slow and shallow, then speed up, naturally drawing in deeper, intensely focused on everything about Baz - the wet hot feeling of him around me, his broken moans, the way his face alternates between surprise and bliss. Sometimes his expression gets stiff, ever so slightly, and that’s when I stop completely, wait for his breaths to even out, until he hooks his leg around my thigh and urges me to start back again.

It’s not perfect, by any means, I’m sure. My motions are awkward, and I have a hard time finding balance and a rhythm, but Baz makes me feel like a prodigy with the way he’s writhing and moaning. He breathes “Snow, Snow,” and “So good, yes, keep going,” and when I rub up against that spot inside him, he lets out a choked “Simon!”

I’ve been pausing every so often to hold off my orgasm, but the pressure and the tension are too much now. Baz’s cock is untouched, except for when it bumps up against my stomach, but it’s slick with precum and throbbing. I bring my hand to Baz’s face, coax his lips open, and say “Lick,” and he does, getting my palm wet with his tongue. Then I grasp him and try to pump his cock in time with my thrusts, but it’s nearly impossible, especially as I draw closer and closer. I’m just holding his cock and letting my thrusts move my hand against him. He uses his hand to guide my thrusts, gripping just above mine. I want to hold off until he comes, but I can tell it’s hopeless. I give the final few thrusts my all - Baz gasps with each one - and spill everything into him.

I stay inside, even as I start to get soft, and keep stroking Baz’s cock. I slide out a bit just so I can gather the cum leaking from his hole, and I slick up my palm with it to wank him faster.

“Gross, Snow,” Baz says, but his tone is awed and he gets even harder, so I don’t stop. He moans and whines and grinds his hips against me and squeezes around my softening cock, and I lean down to spread kisses along his chest, his shoulder, his collarbone, and then he’s coming all over my hand.

We stay still for a few moments, catching our breaths, and then I pull out all the way and collapse against him, not even caring that we’re both incredibly sweaty. (We weren’t particularly clean before this, so it’s pretty bad now.)

I nuzzle into the hollow above Baz’s clavicle, lazily pressing my lips against it and clutching his shoulders like I’m never going to let go. He strokes my hair and tightens his arms around me. My heart feels like it’s going to burst. 

I don’t want to die. I want to keep doing this with Baz forever. I want to kiss him and fuck him and  _ date _ him and love him —

I jerk my head away. “Your wand,” I say. “It - your magic—”

Baz’s eyes widen. “Fuck. I’m an idiot—”

I laugh into his shoulder. “It’s okay. We were distracted.”

“We could have been needlessly crushed to death mid-coitus,” he mumbles. “That would be the most undignified death in the history of the Pitches.”

“At least we would have died happy.”

He smiles against my neck. “Get off me, you oaf. I can’t do proper elocution with you pressed on me.”

I roll off but press against his side. He casts  **A little bird told me** , and sends off some alarm spells, too. Then he casts a weatherization spell that might protect us if the roof caves in. 

We’ve just pulled our clothes back on when we receive a bird back. The note is in Penny’s handwriting, and explains that a search party is on its way.

Reality sets in and I clear my throat. “Uh, so it seems like we’re not going to die at all, so…”

“It’s fine, Snow,” Baz snaps, shifting his weight so we’re not touching anymore. “We can forget this ever happened.”

“No,” I say, “I’m not going to forget. I want to keep doing this.”

“Oh.” Baz smiles. “Well. That would be acceptable to me.”

“And I want to be your boyfriend.”

He looks at me like I’m crazy, but I just laugh. Because I don’t care about the Old Families or the Mage or anyone but us right now. I like Baz - I have for a very long time, I think - and we’ve defeated the Humdrum and everything is going  _ right _ for a change. 

So by god, we’re getting that happily ever after. 


End file.
